


Melted (A Stucky Fanfiction)

by peculiarafterthought



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acronyms, Bucky being sad, Cuddling, Fluff, Hairdressing, Happy Fun Times, Kissing, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Snuggling, Star Trek - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, Steve cheering him up, Stucky - Freeform, YOLO, cuteness, haircut, hawkeye is a hairdresser in his spare time because why not, lol, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:46:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7776646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarafterthought/pseuds/peculiarafterthought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello! This is my very first fan fiction on this website, so I hope you enjoy! I chose to do Steve/Bucky because they are very close to my heart and I thought there are so many feels there that it would be an easy one to start off with!</p><p>It is set just after Bucky Barnes willingly is placed back into cryogenic tubing in the post credits scene of Civil War, until Wakandan scientists can figure out a way to prevent mind control by Hydra. Of course, Steve isn't too happy about this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Indecision

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! Please leave me feedback at the bottom if you do!

Steve paced the quite large, metal and glass room. For him, pacing was a coping strategy, that was usually quite effective. However, this time, it did nothing for him. This time, his anxiety ran too deep in his blood to shake it out simply by pacing. He turned on his heel and strode back across the room; the room that Bucky, his best friend but more than just his best friend, was in, lying in a cryogenic chamber, cold and catatonic. 

It had only been a couple of hours, but Steve already missed him. It just wasn't fair. They had been separated for so long; Steve had thought he was dead for what felt like a lifetime, and finally when he was found, Bucky didn't remember him. In fact, he wasn't even Bucky anymore, he was the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier, the one who had greeted Steve with, who the hell is Bucky? Imagine that. The patriotic and heroic Captain America finding that his best friend had murdered hundreds of innocent people, and not only that, but he didn't even remember his own name, or Steve's. Steve didn't feel like being too patriotic or heroic after that. It had hurt too much. It had hurt even more when Bucky had remembered him, because Steve couldn't bear to see the pain and misery on his friend's face when he realised what he done. And now, instead of helping him get better, coaxing him into remembering that he truly was a good and noble person; that the Winter Soldier was not Bucky, they were being separated once again. Oh, how fate is cruel, Steve thought, bitterly.

He took another turn of the room, trying desperately to think of anything else but how badly he wanted to wake Bucky from his icy slumber. That morning, Steve had done anything and everything he could to distract himself. He had thumped and smashed leather sandbags until his knuckles were bleeding and the punching bags broke loose from their chains; the grainy sand scattered on the floor. 

He had jogged - no, not jogged, sprinted on his treadmill, the treadmill Stark had custom built for him to withstand speeds of up to 70 mph, months ago. Things had been simpler back then. Him and Stark had still been friends. Stark had made it withstand 70 just as a precaution; he had explained that Steve would never be able to run that fast, that the highest speed he would ever be able to reach was between 55 - 60 mph. Stark was wrong. Steve had broken his treadmill that morning. 

Steve had tried listening to the Marvin Gaye album that Sam had recommended, an album that Steve had since listened to about three hundred times. Even Marvin Gaye couldn't cheer him up that morning.

He had tried eating Thai food, another item on his list of everything he had missed while he had been under the ice. He didn't like it. He had tried watching Star Wars, also on his list (which was admittedly fantastic, despite Steve being too paranoid to really concentrate). He had tried everything he could possibly think of to distract himself, but nothing had worked. He couldn't stop thinking about James Buchanan Barnes.

It wasn't just that Steve missed Bucky. Steve was a man who had very strong moral beliefs, and there weren't many people who could change his mind about them. Steve believed deeply that what Bucky was doing was wrong. Nothing Buck had done as the Winter Soldier was his fault, and yet he was still taking the wrap for it. Steve knew that Bucky was a victim, as did everyone who had actually met the man - even T'Challa now knew that Bucky was not to blame for his father's murder. 

The Winter Soldier was dangerous, that was true. Bucky's mind was so easily capable of being controlled, and his body was so powerful that Steve wasn't sure even he could bring him down (never mind that he cared about Bucky too much to hurt him anyway). When Bucky became the Winter Soldier, he was no more able to stop himself than Steve could stop himself from protecting him. 

So that was the issue here. Bucky had nobly and honourably decided to put himself back on ice, just so that his mind wasn't vulnerable to being persuaded. It was a sacrifice that Steve respected, but still thought wasn't fair. 

Steve abruptly halted his pacing, and slowly shuffled over to stand in front of the cryogenic tube his friend had cruelly been placed in again. He couldn't see much of his face, as the inside of the glass was covered with a crusty layer of ice, but what he could see was so peaceful. It wasn't hurting Bucky, that Steve knew for sure. So why did it feel so wrong? 

Steve's finger inched towards the lever that would switch it all off; the lever that would return Bucky to his normal, living, breathing self. The self, that could talk with him, laugh with him. The self that Steve had been without for such a long time. Steve was just so tired. So tired of living without the person that made his world come alive. 

No, he told himself. You cannot do this. It would be going directly against Bucky's wishes, and not only that, but it would put millions of innocent people, including your friends, lives in danger. And Bucky would never be able to forgive himself, never, if he hurt more people. 

No. Steve was just going to have to survive on his own for a little while longer. 

And Steve was true to his word. He did survive on his own for a little while longer. Precisely, four and a half minutes.


	2. Star Wars/Trek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluffy, but I couldn't resist! Please let me know what you think in the comments if you liked it!  
> Thank you!

After four and a half minutes, Steve just couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't like he had that much to lose - oh no, wait, he did. He had everything to lose, and so did Bucky. But as much as Steve knew it was an idiotic decision, he couldn't bring himself to regret it when he saw the frosty layer inside the cryogenic tube melt away, and the glass cover slide back. 

Bucky's eyes opened slowly. He of course had no idea how long he had been unconscious for, which was an intimidating thought. Had it been days? Months? Years? He took in Steve's concerned expression, and immediately began panicking. 

"How long has it been, Steve? What's the date? Are we under attack?" He leapt out of the cryo tube and tried to unsheathe an imaginary sword from an imaginary scabbard.

Steve laughed, a deep, rumbling thing that started in his chest and rolled out of his mouth in a wave. "No, Buck. It's actually only been just under three hours since you were iced."

"Oh, God, they've found us that quickly?" 

"No," Steve said, reluctant to admit anymore.

"Well then," Bucky said, not yet willing to relax, "Why am I awake?"

"The truth? I... missed you."

Bucky smiled, before realising the implications of what Steve had done. "Steve, how could you? I did this specifically so that you," he jabbed Steve in the chest, "would be okay. You know that I'm dangerous." He paused, smiling sadly. "My mind is just too susceptible to Hydra's control, as much as I wish it wasn't."

"I know, Buck. I know. I didn't mean to turn it off, I just... I don't know how to keep doing this without you."

Bucky leaned forward, patting Steve on the shoulder. "You're Captain America, man. That's awesome. You managed fine without me before, you really don't need me now." His tone was resigned, and a little crestfallen that he was no longer needed to pick Steve up and sort him out after another back alley tussle with a six-foot-something brute.

"That's just it. As crazy as it may sound, it's almost like I need you more than I did before the serum. I know that sounds stupid, but... our lives were so much simpler back then, even if I was somewhat," he searched for the right word, "small."

Bucky shrugged. "Yes, but you also have more people to help you out now. I mean, no offence, but back then I was your only friend. Literally; you were a complete loner before I took you under my wing." Bucky grinned as he finished his thought.

Steve frowned. "Not a complete loner-"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Steve, but you were."

Steve frowned again. "Well, anyway, even if I did have more friends since I became an Avenger, they're all gone now," he said, bitterly. 

Bucky hung his head, and stared down at his feet, trying to hide how ashamed and guilty his expression was.

Steve's face filled with horror as he realised what he had said. "Oh no, Buck I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry. I would choose you a thousand times over the rest of them, I'm so, so sorry."

Bucky's face still remained firmly angled towards his toes. 

"Please, Bucky. I really, really didn't mean that." Steve's tone was emphatic.

Bucky's face didn't shift upwards, and when he spoke, it was so quietly Steve had to crane his neck forwards to hear him. 

"But it's true. I know it's not what you meant, but it's still true. I- we-" Bucky took a shaky breath, and tried again. "You gave up everything; being an Avenger, being part of a team-" Bucky lifted his head upwards a little, but he was still nowhere close to meeting Steve's eyes. "For me. And there's absolutely no doubt in my mind when I say I don't deserve it, because I don't. You are such a good man, and I- well, I'm not."

Steve gently placed his hand on Bucky's chin and tilted his head upwards, to meet his eyes. "Hey. Don't you ever say that you are not a good man, because that-" Steve's voice broke and he had to try again. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say, and Buck, you are not a stupid man. Nothing that you have done, nothing, since becoming the Winter Soldier, is your fault. You hear me? None of it."

Bucky tried to shake his head, but Steve's fingers were still on his chin, so he couldn't. 

"Buck. I want you to listen to me very carefully, because this is important." He spoke the next part slowly, so there was no way Bucky could miss it. "You are not the Winter Soldier. You hear me? You are not the same person. You are a victim." There were tears in his eyes, that he was blinking away, and his voice was rough from emotion. "Okay?"

Bucky nodded, partly just to stop him from talking, and partly because he could see that Steve was never going to accept that Bucky had become a monster.

Steve suddenly grabbed him by the upper arm, and pulled him in for a rough hug. It was awkward and uncomfortable, until Bucky sighed and relaxed into him, burying his face in Steve's shoulder. They stayed like that for a few blissful seconds, until Steve cleared his throat manly, and clapped him on the back again, several hard times. Bucky rolled his eyes when he was sure that Steve wasn't looking. 

Steve smiled at him, warmly. Steve was fantastic at smiling - he gave them out like they didn't cost him anything, and they always reached to his eyes - they were always sincere. Bucky didn't find it so easy; at least, not as easy as he used to. 

"Do you want to go and watch a movie or something? I started watching Star Wars..." Steve trailed off, thoughtfully. "Or was it Star Trek? I don't know, but anyway, they're pretty cool."

Bucky frowned. "I thought I was going back," he jerked his head to the cryogenic tube behind him, "in there." He looked exhausted, and slightly pathetic.

Steve just looked pained. "Please, can you hold off, at least until tomorrow? We'll talk about it then, just please, stay here for today."

Bucky looked as if he was about to object, but then just nodded. "Okay."

Steve beamed, and this smile seemed to light up the whole room. "Great! I have all these movies on my list, and until now I haven't actually had the chance to watch them, but I started watching a few days ago, and wow. And there's something called a DVD now, which I haven't quite figured out yet, but..."

Steve continued talking, but Bucky had to tune him out. He found it hard sometimes to listen to a person talk for a prolonged period of time, because Bucky still wasn't used to conversation, or even having someone to converse with. Don't misunderstand, Bucky was grateful and very relieved to have his friend back, but the transition period from being completely alone to having the whole of Team Cap to talk to, and now with Steve talking his ear off all day - it was going to be difficult. He just needed to take things one step at a time, and...

"Hey, you ok?" Steve looked concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, just - I'm not really used to company, you know?"

"Yeah, of course. That's okay, if I've been talking too long or doing something that's uncomfortable or upsetting for you, just tell me, okay?"

Bucky bit his lip. He wasn't used to this version of Steve; the Steve that was more capable than him, bigger and better and less fragile. He wasn't used to Steve feeling sympathetic for him, in the past it had been the other way around. Sure, it was great that Steve cared about him, but Bucky still found it slightly unsettling; this completely upside down world. 

"Sure," he said, slightly forced. If Steve noticed, he pretended not to.

However, once they were watching the film, it didn't take long before Bucky had been cheered up. Steve had been right, Star Wars/Trek (they still hadn't figured out exactly which one it was) was excellent, and Bucky soon lost himself in the intergalactic space battles and the little furry things that were apparently called Ewoks. 

Whilst Bucky couldn't completely ignore the stopclock that had been placed on him, (he still fully intended to go back into the cryogenic tube the next day), after a while he almost forgot about it, and relaxed, both into the film and Steve's company. 

Halfway through Star Wars/Trek, Steve looked up to see Bucky enraptured by a rather intense lightsaber battle, and smiled. He scooted up the sofa towards Bucky, still grinning. Bucky grinned back.

Steve decided that from that moment on, as long as he could keep Bucky grinning, everything would be okay.


	3. How evil can hair be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Steve discuss new fangled gadgets, LOL and YOLO, Bucky's hair, and the fact that a certain someone with a bow and arrow likes to do a bit of hairdressing in his free time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter, it's the best thing I've written in a while, so I REALLY hope you enjoy it! If you do, please vote and leave a comment down below. I'd really appreciate it!

"Good morning," Bucky said casually, taking a sip from the ceramic mug he happened to be holding. 

"Um... hi," Steve said stupidly, smiling up at him, still groggy from sleep. Apparently they had fallen asleep on the couch, a couch upon which Steve was sprawled languidly, leaving just enough room for Bucky to be sitting cross legged at the end, nonchalantly nursing a hot drink of some sort. Steve couldn't remember the ending of the film they'd watched last night, so he had probably nodded off before it had reached it's conclusion. "How long have you been awake?"

"A few hours. Check your watch, Steve."

Steve blinked, and did as Bucky asked. A flash of dread passed through him as his eyes took in the time on its smooth surface. "Gosh, is it really that late?" 

Bucky didn't reply: he assumed Steve's question was rhetorical. 

"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you wake me up?" Steve berated himself for being foolish enough to sleep in so late when it could be their last day together for a while. 

Bucky shrugged. "I didn't really want to. It's okay, I've been talking to T'Challa this morning."

Steve swung his legs off the couch, and slowly stood up, stretching. "Really? What about?" Although he feigned indifference, Steve's tone was wary. He knew T'Challa no longer blamed Bucky for his father's murder, but he still deemed it likely it would take a while for T'Challa to trust him. 

"This and that. How he also thinks you're an idiot for waking me up, and simultaneously is surprised you didn't do it sooner."

Steve tried not to look affronted, but didn't quite manage it. "Glad you two are bonding over how ridiculous I am."

"LOL." Bucky grinned.

"What the heck does 'lol' mean?"

"Laugh out loud. Apart from conversing with T'Challa, I discovered this thing called the internet, on T'Challa's computer device. It's really cool. There are all these new words and acronyms people have invented. Another one is 'yolo.' Can you guess what it stands for?" Bucky was twisting his wrists in circles as he talked, something he did when he was animated or excited. 

Steve furrowed his brows, which was what he did when he was thinking. "Yoghurt On Large Oranges?"

Bucky burst out laughing at his friend's ridiculous guess. "No. You Only Live Once!" 

Steve tried to defend himself. "Oh. Well, everyone knows that you only live once, it's not surprising that I didn't assume there would be a saying for it." He paused, pondering some more. "Why don't people just laugh, instead of saying Laugh Out Loud? It seems kinda stupid to me."

"Young people use the expression in something called 'texting.' I don't really understand it, but apparently you can use it to send messages instantly from something called a cell phone. Plus, saying LOL requires less effort."

"Oh, a phone? I have one of those, Sam showed me how it works. I text him and Nat all the time." Steve ignored the latter part of Bucky's sentence; he wasn't going to indulge his laziness.

"Really?" Bucky's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Will you show me how it works?"

Steve cracked up, he couldn't help it.

"Why are you laughing?"

Steve tried to stop. "Sorry, just the expression on your face - you looked like a gleeful little kid."

Instead of berating him, or looking ashamed, like Steve had expected, Bucky joined in with his laughter. It took quite a few minutes before they had calmed down enough to stop, because every time one of them had begun to sober up, all they had to do was look at the other's face to immediately start giggling again. 

Steve took longer than Bucky for his laughter to simmer down, and once he'd calmed, looked up to find Bucky smiling, fondly at him. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just - I've missed you."

Steve grinned, putting on a smile too wide for his face. "I only saw you yesterday."

Bucky rolled his eyes and swatted at him. "I didn't mean that. I meant," Bucky gestured between them, "this. Laughing with you, enjoying myself with you. How we used to be, before..." His smile faded. 

So did Steve's. "I know, Buck. Me, too."

Steve waited a moment, before saying, "So. Still want to see my phone?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They were still sitting side by side on the sofa, except Steve had run upstairs to get his iPhone in between. Bucky still couldn't believe how much humanity had advanced since he had been the Winter Soldier. He remembered when he and Steve had gone to Howard Stark's exposition of future technologies, with a couple of girls whose names he could no longer remember. Technology had definitely advanced amazingly since then, and, Bucky thought with a grimace, Howard's son probably had something to do with that. Tony. And that was when Bucky remembered that Howard Stark was now dead. Murdered... By him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Steve asked, as he saw Bucky's eyes start to fill with tears.

"Nothing," Bucky said, gritting his teeth and wiping his face with the back of his hand. He hated feeling this weak. Since when had he started bloody crying all the time? 

"Bucky, you know you can talk to me about it," Steve said, gently rubbing Bucky's back with his fingertips in soothing circles.

"I said I'm fine!" Bucky snapped. Shit, he thought. He hadn't meant to yell at Steve, he was just so goddamn frustrated.

Steve flinched, and withdrew his hand. 

"I'm sorry," Bucky said, not meeting his eyes. "I just don't want to talk about it, if that's okay."

"Yeah, no, that's - that's fine."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Steve's stomach rumbled, aggressively. They both giggled, and Steve blushed. That's adorable, Bucky thought, and then shook his head, trying to knock the thought out of it. Since when had he started thinking of his best friend as adorable?

"Sorry," Steve said, bringing Bucky back to the present. "I'm really hungry."

"It's okay. I am, too."

"Do you want lunch? I think T'Challa has eggs somewhere..."

"Sounds great." Bucky forced himself to smile, trying not to upset Steve again. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Steve danced around the kitchen, grabbing milk, butter and eggs from different cupboards. Bucky had offered to help, but Steve'd reassured him that it was fine; he could manage by himself. They had tried to find T'Challa beforehand, to ask if he wanted lunch, and if it was okay to use his ingredients, but he was nowhere to be found, and they were both too ravenous to wait for him. 

Steve glanced behind him at Bucky, whilst cracking an egg into a bowl. He was sitting at the kitchen table, broodily, eyes vacant and fingers idly splayed on its wooden surface. Steve wanted nothing more than to cheer him up, but he didn't know how. He turned his attention back to the eggs, and frowned. He should probably have focused a little harder on cracking them (no easy task), because now, in front of him, was a bowl filled with more shell than egg.

Oops. Steve reached into the bowl, trying to scoop the shell out with his fingers, but everytime he grasped a fragment, it just slipped back into the bowl when he tried to remove it. 

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky said suddenly, startling Steve, who let out a small scream and jumped back in surprise. His hand caught on the edge of the bowl, which flipped off the counter, and ended up as a mess of pottery and liquid on the floor. 

Steve bent down to pick up the larger pieces of the broken bowl, conveniently hiding how his cheeks were dusted with red. 

"Sorry!" Bucky said, rushing up to help. 

Steve motioned with one hand for him sit down. Bucky ignored him and began looking for a dustpan and brush, in one of the many cupboards which T'Challa had in his enormous kitchen. 

"You what now?" Steve asked, referring to Bucky's initial remark. 

"I... I want to cut my hair. Found it!" Bucky grinned with pride as he dug out the dustpan and brush and bent down to sweep the debris into the pan. 

"Why would you want to that, all of a sudden?" Steve deposited the broken china in the dustbin, and put his hands on his hips.

"I don't like it," Bucky said, emphatically. 

"Why don't you like it?" Steve strode over, and stared down at Bucky, still sweeping up the smashed crockery.

"Why would I? It's irritating, it gets in the way of everything, and it makes me look evil!" Bucky cringed, wishing he hadn't said that last part. It sounded so stupid. 

Steve snorted. "Buck, your hair does not make you look evil. That's ridiculous."

"It does," Bucky said, plaintively. He abruptly stood up, throwing the bowl's remains into the bin and jamming the lid on. 

Steve rolled his eyes. "Hair cannot contribute to evilness in one way or another. It's - it's hair."

"Well, I beg to differ. I don't like it, so I'm going to lop it off." 

"Do you have to?" Steve whined. He thought that Bucky's hair made him look awesome. And handsome. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. Steve felt the blood rush to his face, forming a blush for the third time that day. "I like your hair," he muttered, lamely.

"Really?" Bucky questioned, surprised. "I hate it." He shrugged, and picked up a pair of scissors, sitting on the kitchen counter. 

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, when Bucky began to wander off.

"To cut my hair, Steve." Bucky sighed, as if Steve really should have picked up on that by now.

"No, no, no!" Steve's eyes grew horrified, and he snatched the scissors out of Bucky's fist. "You absolutely cannot cut your hair yourself, and certainly not with those, you'll look ridiculous!"

Bucky protested, and tried to grab the scissors back. "Well then, who is going to cut it? There's absolutely no way I'm trusting you."

"I wasn't thinking of me," Steve said, in a 'duh' tone of voice.

"T'Challa? Because he-"

"No, not him, either."

"Well then who?"

Steve grinned, wickedly. "I happen to have a friend who's pretty skilled at hairdressing. He cuts mine all the time."

Bucky felt slightly nervous, especially since Steve looked like he was plotting something. "He? Who is it?"

"Wait and see," Steve said, taunting him.

"Steve," Bucky growled. "I can very easily make you tell me."

"Uh, no you can't."

"Oh, really? Wanna bet?" Bucky lurched forward, and Steve jumped backwards, an expression of panic on his face.

Bucky laughed, and crossed his arms. His face said, See how easy it is to scare you?

Steve pouted, crossly. Bucky waggled his eyebrows, threateningly, in response.

"Okay, fine, fine, I'll give you a clue." Steve paused, mysteriously, and then made a show of clearing his throat. "He's particularly attached to his bow and arrow, which I'm forever telling him is worrying, but does he listen to me? No..." 

Steve continued ranting, but Bucky no longer heard him. His mouth had dropped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you're a true Marvel fan, you know who I'm talking about with the hairdresser thing... Sorry, I just couldn't resist, especially when Jeremy used to be a makeup artist! I really hope you enjoyed, comment and vote if you did! Thank you so much.


End file.
